


Into the Woods

by iriscale



Series: Fantasy AU [1]
Category: Block B, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Body Horror, Fluff, Multi, OT7, Shapeshifters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iriscale/pseuds/iriscale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein seven people are drawn close by powers beyond their reckoning, something some might call strings of fate... Jiho, for one, would beg to differ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jiho wipes the sweat from his brow. The sun starts to droop in the sky as he removes his work gloves and bandana, stuffing them in his back pocket.

From the ground below, he can hear the foreman calling everyone down, the tiling on the roof finished. He climbs down the ladder with little care, bouncing onto the ground and striding over to a pile of lumber where Kyung sits waiting, chugging a bottled water.

“Agh, Kyung, it's too damn hot for it to be just spring,” Jiho huffs, taking a bottle Kyung offers him silently.

He twists the lid off and throws it back. Even lukewarm, the water cools his burning throat. His old sneakers scuff at the ground as he leans back on his arms and catches his breath.

“Feels like we're in a fucking desert or something,” Kyung gripes, eying Jiho's water after examining his empty bottle. His dark eyes glitter behind his bleached, curly hair as he schemes about swiping the other man's water.

Jiho doesn't even look at him, just tilts the bottle away from his friend and Kyung groans again.

“I'm going to go start the van up,” he says, and Jiho watches him walk to the parking lot, expressionless.

The revving of the engine of the van is distinct even at this distance and Jiho finds himself again wondering if it's finally time for a tune up. Hell, he's afraid if he brings it in, they'll tell him to send it to a scrap yard. He's better off attempting to fix it himself again. Maybe he should ask Yukwon, since the guy rebuilt his own bike from scratch.

Kyung pulls the beat up once-white van up into the dirt yard. A small bit of black smoke dissipates from the rear of the truck and Jiho hops in. The inside is ridiculously warm, the air conditioning unit still broken.

As he and Kyung crank down the windows, Jiho tsks.

“I'm getting 'Kwon to take a look at the baby tonight,” he says, patting said “baby” tenderly.

“Your attachment to this piece of crap is completely astounding,” Kyung says halfheartedly, driving out of the development and onto the highway.

“You paid good money for it too,” Jiho reminds him and Kyung wrinkles his nose in distaste.

“Don't remind me.”

Jiho had talked Kyung into paying for half of the van last summer, convincing him it could be fixed up well into a vehicle for their someday rock band. The band, as of now, only consists of the pair and is basically non existent. The van's still painted with bright orange spray paint in English letters reading “BLOCKBUSTER,” but now it just serves as transportation to and from work.

Both Kyung and Jiho are recent high school graduates taking the year off before college to earn some cash to pay for their higher education. They share an apartment together and do pretty much everything together; it's hard to find one without the other. They have two other best friends, one a year older and one a year younger; Yukwon, a mostly quiet college student working part time as a TA and Jihoon, a senior high school student.

They're on their way now to pick up Jihoon from school: it's Friday, after all.

Friday night get-togethers have been a tradition for the group of friends since middle school; they rarely miss an opportunity to kick each others' asses in video games and watch cartoons together. Fridays also involve them stuffing their faces with whatever junk food they can grab for the weekend, more often than not cheerfully (and insistently) provided by Jihoon, whose parents are always more than happy to give their son abundant cash.

 

Visiting their old high school gives both Jiho and Kyung a host of memories, both fun and unpleasant. Neither were popular with the administration, which dubbed them troublemakers. Not that the two tried very hard to change that impression. (Jiho had once written and performed a very accurate and very haughty rap about a teacher's oversized ears; Jihoon and Yukwon begged for him not to be kicked from school and tears from the younger convinced the administration to only give Jiho suspension and detention for 2 weeks.)

At best, they were glad to be done with high school and working instead.

In the distance, Jihoon's bright eyes light up when he sees the battered van. He bounds up to the car waiting in the school parking lot, waving to his older friends and nearly bouncing in excitement.

“Hyungs!” he booms, deep voice and tall stature undermined by his childlike charm and round looks. He taps eagerly on the back doors and Jiho slips back, unlatching them.

Jihoon hops in and gives Jiho a big hug, nearly crushing the older man in his enthusiasm.

“Good to see you too, bud,” Jiho says and Kyung waves from his seat.

“How you doin', lil bro?” Kyung asks as Jihoon buckles himself into the seat against the passenger side wall, avoiding timber strapped to the floor and loose odds and ends haphazardly lying in the back of the van.

“Ugh, I'm ready for summer to be here already,” the senior pouts. “I need a break.”

“You and me both,” Jiho says, strapping himself back in as Kyung maneuvers out of the parking lot.

A teacher turns up his nose at the van as they pass. Jiho waves at him, grinning wildly.

He plops back in the seat when the teacher is out of sight and pulls a revolted face.

Jihoon seems to have gotten over his grouchy mood, and starts talking animatedly to Jiho about a new anime he's started watching, interrupted intermittently by Kyung, who considers himself an expert on the genre. (For someone who has only watched two or three animes all the way through, he's awfully pretentious about it.)

The car has barely even parked at the apartment before Jihoon has his seatbelt off and is leaping out of the car, eager to get out of the hot metal vehicle and into the relatively cooler building.

Kyung and Jiho are fairly slower than him, and Jihoon is already up the stairs and to the apartment door, bouncing on his heels waiting for them to unlock the door.

He waits for the two older boys to walk in the door and gesture for him to come inside before he crosses the threshold, but he throws himself into the main room, plopping down onto the couch, knowing he's going to have to wait for both of the guys to shower before they can start their shows.

He's already got his phone out, and Kyung can hear the voice of the game’s narrator even over the running shower in the next room, where Jiho has already stripped and stepped inside.

Jihoon's parents always make sure he has the latest tech to keep him entertained, and his phone is no exception. Kyung waits on Jiho in the kitchen, and from there he can see Jihoon crouched over his phone with his knees pulled up to his chest while he taps away at the game, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

Kyung tsks as he notices Jiho's discarded bandana and work gloves tossed carelessly on the floor by the bathroom, but makes no move to clean it up. There are many such messes in the Woo-Park apartment, (or WooParkment, as the pair may lovingly refer to it) and Kyung leaves them messy to spite Jiho. He doesn't leave any messes like that. But... he does admit sometimes he's not quite sure if the mess is his or Jiho's. He leaves it if he's not sure just to be on the safe side. (It wouldn't kill Jiho to clean after himself every one and a while, he thinks.)

Jiho showers pretty quickly and comes into the kitchen with his hair still wet, hand towel thrown over his sloppily bleached hair. (He likes it that way, despite how Kyung might try to get him to do a cleaner job of coloring his hair.)

He heads into the main room, leaving Kyung to hurry to the shower, knowing that Jiho won't wait on him to start watching TV.

Jiho plops down on the couch beside Jihoon and turns on the TV, some garbage reality show filling the room with staticy noise and Jiho sinks back into the couch, enjoying the mindlessness of it.

As soon as Kyung enters the room turns the channel immediately to a channel broadcasting anime. Jiho goes to say something derogatory about slice-of-life series and Kyung just reaches over and covers his mouth, earning a belly laugh from Jihoon.

Jiho eventually settles down and watches. (it's not as bad as he wants to think; he has to stop himself from laughing too loudly or Kyung'll win in their petty feud.)

They're halfway through the second episode (Kyung has his computer plugged up to the TV at this point) when a knock comes at the door.

Jiho drags himself up from the couch and Jihoon falls back into his spot, as he was nearly leaning against his hyung on the seat.

He strides to the front door and tugs on it, struggling a little with the lock jammed in place, growling at it when it refuses to open. He finally wriggles it open and Yukwon is standing on the other side, black motorbike helmet under his arm.

His black hair flops over his eyes, tousled by the removed helmet. He blinks when the light floods onto the porch from the apartment.

“Hello, Jiho,” he says, voice raspy. He smiles brightly when he meets Jiho's eyes.

“Sorry, everything around here seems to be broken,” he huffs, gesturing for Yukwon to step inside.

Yukwon walks light and silently into the main room, past the kitchen where he puts down his helmet. He tuts when he sees the messes piled up on the floor and laying across the chairs and tables of the apartment. Jiho knows under that innocent, lazy visage, Kwon is scheming about how he can clean up. The older man is always picking up after them when he thinks they aren't looking, shuffling things into their proper place and tidying in the background. There are many things Yukwon hides from them, or perhaps, chooses not to talk about, but his tendencies toward cleaning are definitely ones known by his dongsaengs.

They meet the other two in the main room where Jihoon is trying to convince Kyung to switch the channel to Transformers.

“Please, hyung?” Jihoon asks sweetly, batting his eyes at the other.

Stubborn as always, Kyung continues to start up another episode of the anime, leaving Jihoon to pout on the couch.

He brightens immensely when Yukwon walks in the room, throwing himself up from the couch and onto him.

“Yukwon hyung!” he says joyfully, nearly bowling the smaller man over.

Yukwon takes it in stride, embracing Jihoon and patting him on the back.

“Sorry I'm late, Jihoonie. Got held up at work,” he says. He scratches at his head and sits down gracefully on the floor next to the couch, resting with Jiho and Jihoon on either side.

“They really like to work their TAs hard,” he grins ruefully.

Kyung still fumbles with the computer, and Jiho snorts at him.

“Give up. It's obviously decided not to work. I say it's time for video games,” he says, always eager to one-up Kyung.

Kyung gives him a dirty look and plans to continue fidgeting with the computer, but Jihoon agrees enthusiastically, going to get the first game off the shelf. As he stands, his stomach growls loudly, clearly audible to everyone in the room and he chuckles, embarrassed.

“Guess I'm getting hungry,” he says.

Jiho hauls himself off the couch, sighing.

“I'll make something,” he says resignedly and Jihoon shakes his head quickly.

“I'll order something this time,” he says, patting his chest. He whips out his phone and searches for the take out number and Jiho tries to take his phone and Kyung joins him.

“Jihoon, you're our guest--” “No, don't worry about it. I've got the money--” “Jihoon, no--”

To the chagrin of his hyungs, Jihoon manages to order enough takeout for ten people. While the host pair are grateful for the food, they hate having Jihoon pay, as enthusiastically as he does it. They are his elders, after all, and god damn it, he's their responsibility, not the other way around.

Still, everyone is enthusiastic enough when the food arrives, Jihoon bowing deeply to the delivery girl, who has to make two trips to get all the food to the apartment.

Kyung and Jiho clear off the table, Yukwon picking up pieces of trash and junk and putting them in proper places as Jihoon unloads the food onto the table.

While Kyung and Jiho might've protested before the food got to the house, they aren't at all hesitant to pile their plates high with Korean takeout, some of it making its way already down into their stomachs before it all is properly unpacked. Jihoon hasn't even sat down before he starts cramming food into his mouth; it's been 10 minutes before one of them realizes and Yukwon pulls Jihoon down into a seat, the high school student still stuffing food into his mouth.

“Slow down there, Jihoonie. You'll choke,” Kyung says around a mouthful of food.

Jihoon chews enough to speak.

“Speak for yourself, hyung,” he scoffs as Jiho starts coughing on his food, Yukwon slapping him on the back worriedly.

The four dig into the food with gusto, offering each other bites occasionally, comfortable enough eating food off the others' utensils.

After 20 minutes the youngest three have considerably slowed down but Yukwon, surprisingly, is still eating at the same pace, albeit a much slower pace than the other three's starting rate. Jihoon is still somehow eating, more than he ever has.

Yukwon has been carefully watching him since he noticed the boy hadn't even taken time to sit down to eat.

The rest of them had been talking and joking while eating, but Jihoon has mostly been listening and using his mouth for eating. He'd probably consumed as much as the other three combined, which was a feat considering the eldest could usually meet Jihoon bite for bite. Despite his smaller stature, Yukwon had other reasons (he never specified) for his high metabolism, reasons that Jihoon didn't have (at least, to Yukwon's knowledge).

“Did you eat earlier today?” Yukwon asks him quietly, raising an eyebrow.

Jihoon looks at him strangely, finding the question odd.

“My mom packed me a good lunch,” he says, and Yukwon drops it. He still can't help feeling Jihoon is off today.

With food in his stomach, Kyung seems to be back to his cheerful, greasy self, his grouchiness from the earlier heat dissipated. As they clear the table, putting what little leftovers there are into their fridge, Kyung acts extra flirty, earning him a couple of light slaps from both Yukwon and Jiho, who laugh at his antics.

He fake pouts, batting his eyelashes at the pair, Yukwon breaking out in a loud gut-laugh.

“Kyung, oh my god,” he says, doubling over and leaning against Jiho for support, breath wheezy.

Jihoon grins at Kyung, a teasing light in his eyes.

“How are you not covered in the ladies, hyung? Such charm...” he says, wiggling his finger at him.

“Too much handsome for one man,” he agrees, pretending to throw hair over his shoulder as he swaggers into the main room, collapsing onto the couch in a power position, arms slung over the back of the couch.

The teasing spark in Jihoon's eyes hasn't left; he eyes the couch gleefully.

“Dog pile!” he shouts, throwing himself belly-first onto Kyung, who screams in falsetto.

“Fuck! Jihoon, no!”

Yukwon lets out a whoop and Jiho follows him to the pile on top of Kyung.

“Give up already,” Jiho demands, Kyung gasping and laughing from the bottom under Jihoon.

The youngest lets out a rare squealing laugh, rolling under the weight of both Jiho and Yukwon. The combined sound of their laughter reverberates through their bodies until Kyung shouts again from under the pile.

“Ack! No! I surrender!” he says, still trying to twist out from under Jihoon.

“What was that, Kyung?” Jiho asks, pretending he couldn't hear him the first time.

“Jiho! Please! Let me up!” Kyung laughs, short of breath. Jiho grins and slides off the top, and Jihoon and Yukwon come toppling onto the floor too, narrowly missing Jiho, but falling onto each other instead.

Yukwon's still giggling, hand pressed to his open mouth, even though Jihoon's legs are tangled with his.

Jiho's sitting on his butt and Kyung grins at him. They exchange a mischievous glance and Kyung offers Jiho his hands to get up.

“Oh, Jiho, let me help you get up,” he says in a falsely kind voice.

“Why thank you, Kyung,” Jiho replies, using Kyung's weight to get to his feet, but by the time Jiho's up, Kyung's fallen back onto the ground.

Jihoon laughs loud, the loudest and deepest laugh of the night and he's about bent over, nearly sitting in Yukwon's lap. The eldest is also laughing, his laughter raspy and sibilant.

They only encourage the pair to do it again, Jiho pulling Kyung to his feet only for Jiho to crash down in front of him, earning a fake “Oh, no!” of distress from the other.

Yukwon falls back, gripping his aching side and Jihoon rolls off him laughing, face squished in acute delight.

“Guys, stop,” he manages to gasp. He has to turn his head away, nearly crying from laughing so hard when Kyung crashes down on top of Jiho this time, both bursting into laughter as explosive as the other two.

Jiho fucking howls as Kyung whispers something into his ear, clapping him on the back, his face red from laughing.

All four manage to make their way back to the couch once their joint giddiness subsides and Jiho and Jihoon crawl onto it, leaving Yukwon and Kyung to fumble with the video game consoles. There's a chair on either side of the couch, but the two elect to sit on the floor in front of the couch instead, like they always do.

 

Jiho always takes whatever game they play together ridiculously seriously compared to the others. Kyung doesn't care half the time unless they're playing Smash Bros, and even then he goofs around in the background and does the weirdest things during fights (though surprisingly sometimes to their advantage). Jihoon is actually really good at fighting games but doesn't have the same kind of honed skill that Jiho or Kyung have. Yukwon enjoys playing with him but even he knows he's not the best, only really excelling in games where he has time to think. (He plays RPGs remarkably well.)

 

In the dark of the room, even with a controller in his hands, Jihoon is the first to feel sleepy. Slowly, he starts to sink downward into the couch and into Jiho, first relaxing his head against the older boy's shoulder as he taps at the controller. Soon his head is in Jiho's lap and his eyes droop shut, his character in the game running wildly in one direction.

It takes the others a moment to notice he's out for the night.

“I guess we're done playing games for the night,” Kyung sighs, admiring the younger man's ability to sleep so soundly. He starts to snore, making soft snuffling noises against Jiho's stomach and Yukwon grins at the cute sight. Jiho just rolls his eyes and waits for him to fall asleep enough for him to slip out from under the boy.

“Cards?” Kyung asks excitedly and the other two nod. He darts into the corner of the room, fumbling through a shelf for their poker cards.

“No bets tonight though,” Yukwon says and Jiho scoffs.

“Cause you know we'll rob you,” he teases, but doesn't press. He knows how it is being strapped for cash, a struggle their sleeping maknae doesn't know.

They elect to play a game of go fish, too tired for anything more complicated.

“You got any fives?” Kyung asks, swiping through his cards.

“Go fish,” Jiho says, smirking as Kyung pulls another card.

Yukwon sighs.

“Kwon, how's work been? They seem to be keeping you later and later,” Kyung observes, sorting the cards in his hands.

“It's almost the end of the semester and they're really enthusiastic about grading papers,” he says, eyeing the deck. “Got any fours?”

Jiho grunts and tosses him two cards. The dark haired man grins and puts down a full set.

“What about you two? Still planning on going to university after this summer?”

Jiho frowns.

“I still want to get a band together, but university might be the best option,” he says with a sense of dread. “I don't see myself stuck in a dreary office for the rest of my life or being some office lackey,” he laments, folding his cards over and tapping his head on the floor with a grunt.

Yukwon laughs. The image of Jiho in a suit and tie, hair slicked back formally, pops into his mind and he can't imagine Jiho slaving in an office for the life of him.

Kyung, maybe, but the man seems just as opposed to the notion.

“My parents want me to go back to school but I'd rather go where Jiho's going,” he says honestly. “If it's a band or working at the construction company another year, I'd still prefer that over sitting in class and studying my ass off.”

“Amen to that,” Jiho says, raising a hand Kyung high-fives lazily.

“No offense to you, 'Kwon,” Kyung adds halfheartedly and Yukwon just shakes his head.

There's certain factors tying him to the school and to his family, expectations he can't let down and there's connections there he can't go without, unlike the wild pair starting to doze off in front of him.

He seems to be the one most awake as both Jiho and Kyung's heads start to drift toward the floor.

“Any love interests on the horizon?” he asks, and it jolts them both awake.

“You know I don't have time for a lady,” Jiho scoffs with a smirk, turning onto his back and resting on his arms.

“Because they're all flocking to me,” Kyung says snidely, avoiding a swipe from Jiho.

His expression drifts from cocky to confused or maybe slightly worried, if Yukwon is reading him correctly.

“So much more than high school though,” he says, and Jiho laughs at him.

“Look at you, cocky asshole,” he says and Kyung shakes his head.

“I'm actually glad I'm working with mostly guys because… well, it's actually really weird. A few weeks ago, I was out walking near the university and all these girls showed up. I don't know where they came from, but there were tons of them and they were draping themselves all over me and--” he stops, unable to suppress a small shudder.

“You would've adored that in high school,” Jiho scoffs, and Kyung gives him a look that drags the smirk from his face.

“Jiho, man,” he starts and Jiho looks like he's going to protest, but shuts his mouth, looking away from Kyung. Yukwon looks at them both in confusion and Kyung looks at him, defeated.

“I should've liked it but I didn't. It felt so weird. Like, I don't want those girls on me. Not like that. And that's not the only time it's happened. I don't even know why they like me. I don't even know if they know why they like me. It's like... they could smell something on me that dragged them to me. I don't want that,” he says and Yukwon's heart sinks. It’s a bizarre story to say the least, but he definitely believes the younger man.

Jiho looks like he knows all this and Yukwon narrows his eyes at him when he looks up.

Apologize, his glare demands and Jiho pouts. Yukwon reaches over and smacks the back of his head and Jiho makes a few noises of vague apology and Yukwon sighs, knowing that's the best he's going to work out of the younger man.

He puts his hand on Kyung's hand gently and gives him a look of sympathy, silently sending him a reassuring, loving look.

The game continues until Jiho's head lulls back onto the floor behind him and Kyung's face is squished against the floor below him.

Yukwon smiles at their sleeping bodies. He worries about them a lot; the two have always been troublemakers, but they really are still kids at heart, especially compared to Yukwon.

Not that Yukwon doesn't have his own kind of innocence; there's a pureness to him despite the secrets he hides from the kids.

The biggest of those secrets, the one from which all the others stem, is that he isn't exactly human. There are many people like him, part-humans and non-humans who blend into their society, but Yukwon in particular is a shapeshifter. It's something that runs in his blood, the majority of his family possessing the ability to shift into felines, though the same is not true for all shifters. To someone who's fully human, Yukwon appears to be human as well, but to another shifter or non-human, his disproportionately high strength and ravenous appetite, along with his scent, give him away as one of their kind. Yukwon is particularly cat-like in his appearance, lithe and graceful with almond eyes similar to his cat form. In high school his friends jokingly nicknamed him “Kitty 'Kwon” and he couldn't tell them why it made him laugh so hard. He never told his group about his ability, partially because of the taboo about telling humans about their kind, and to protect them once he came to trust them enough to tell them anyway.

Even now though, he debates telling them about himself; he wants to be open and honest with them if he's going to expect them to be honest with him. He worries in particular about the youngest, whose odd behavior as of late has him on edge. The boy is smiling less and hardly talking like he used to and it makes Yukwon's heart ache.

For now though, he can feel sleep creeping up on him too.

He slips out of the room, returning with the quilts and blankets that make up the pallets in Jiho and Kyung's bedroom. He piles them on the floor in front of the couch, rolling the two heavy sleepers onto the blanket nest, picking up trash scattered across the room as he goes. He snorts when Jiho lets out a small sound of discontent in his sleep and lets him roll over, his tough image ruined by his now wild hair poking out from behind his ears.

Yukwon also lifts up Jihoon's head gently, putting a pillow under it and spreading a blanket over him. In his sleep the boy lets out a low rumbling noise and pulls the blanket tighter, scrunching his nose cutely.

Yukwon admires the nest he made, now piled high with pillows and blankets, his dongsaengs snuggled inside. He has to fight the urge to kiss them all goodnight, and instead smiles widely, settling himself in the middle between the couch and Kyung.

A fine group of friends for a cat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning in this chapter for descriptions of anxiety/anxiety attacks

Jiho wakes up with Kyung snoring quietly into his ear. He sits up groggily, Kyung's splayed arm flopping down against the floor as he rises. He absentmindedly brushes it away, examining the nest of blankets he had woken up in. He didn't remember falling asleep on the floor, but apparently he had, and someone had decided to wrap them up like blanket burritos, other than Jihoon, who still slept soundly on the couch hugging the pillow under his head in his sleep.

“Why's it so damn clean,” he mutters, noting the lack of trash that had previously been strewn about the room from the last few days.

Judging by the cleaned floor and the sheer number of blankets dragged into the room, Yukwon was the likeliest suspect. Jiho narrows his eyes at him.

“You doting mother hen,” he whispers accusingly and Yukwon seems to smile in his sleep, peaceful and innocent (two things Jiho knows he's not). Jiho scoffs, dragging his feet as he escorts himself to the kitchen, rubbing at his tired eyes.

The dishes from the night before are piled in the sink. He eyes them warily as he gets out ingredients for pancakes. He sighs, resigning himself to do them and trudges over to the sink.

“Fuck it, I need the dishes,” he mutters to himself, and bemoans the petty task.

As he puts away the last piece of silverware, Jihoon stumbles into the kitchen, eyes still mostly closed and his short spiky hair sticking up wildly all over his head.

“Morning,” he says, his voice still scratchy from sleep. He blinks at Jiho slowly as the other gets more ingredients out.

“You need help, hyung?” he offers slowly.

Jiho just waves a hand at him and keeps at it, so Jihoon takes a seat at the table, head nodding.

When Jiho looks back, the boy's head is on the table, asleep again.

He laughs quietly. He'll wake up when food's in front of him, Jiho knows.

Jiho gets a mixing bowl out and starts mixing ingredients for pancakes, beating batter by hand.

Kyung and Yukwon both stagger into the kitchen, pushing and shoving at each other sleepily.

“Why couldn't you let me sleep just a little longer,” Kyung gripes, earning a tired but toothy grin from Yukwon, who traps him in a headlock, mussing his already untamed bedhead. Yukwon had woke before Kyung, but it took a good ten minutes for Yukwon to shake him awake.

Jiho is wide awake by now, and the smell of pancakes starts to flood the kitchen and the rest of the apartment. In his hand is a novelty Hello Kitty frying pan, a joke gift from the group in high school. He unironically loves it and thinks that the Hello Kitty shaped pancakes it makes are hilarious and tries to use it as much as possible, as today is evidence of.

He puts down a couple in front of Jihoon first. He laughs at how quickly his head stirs from the smell, hardly opening his eyes to start devouring the cakes. Kyung and Kwon flank him, squishing in on either side as Jihoon munches appreciatively.

Jiho proudly places two more plates in front of Kyung and Yukwon, the latter nodding in thanks.

He sits down with his own plate, his stack the highest (he did make them after all), and appreciates his own handiwork. He has gotten really good at keeping the shape right after all, and they taste pretty damn good, especially with the warmed syrup he puts on top.

He eats slowly, enjoying them, and watches the others to judge their reactions to his cooking.

They all seem to enjoy it, Kyung making unnecessarily loud sounds of enjoyment and Yukwon eating his without syrup, just stuffing them straight into his mouth and into his cheeks like a hamster. He eats a spoonful of syrup to top it off and Jiho wonders who exactly let them all be adults.

Jihoon eats the most normally of the four, though he's eating very slowly. There's a slight pink tinge to his pale cheeks that isn't from the warmth of the pancakes.

“Hey, Jihoon, you look a bit off,” Jiho remarks and Jihoon just blinks at him and keeps eating, only for Yukwon to place a hand on his forehead.

“You're really warm, actually,” he says, brow creasing. “You feeling alright, kid?”

Jihoon sort of nods in acknowledgment, but waves his hand, grunting in a way they know means shh, I'm fine, but I'm eating so Jiho just shrugs and digs into his own pancakes, letting the younger be.

Yukwon clearly hasn't let it go, swallowing down his pancakes nearly whole and stealing glances at Jihoon every few seconds.

Jiho glances over to see Yukwon lean closer to Jihoon and... sniff him? He's not sure that's what he sees but he asks anyway.

“...Did you just sniff Jihoonie?” Jiho asks, and Yukwon blinks at him like he has no idea what Jiho is talking about.

“Huh?” he says, tilting his head in confusion. Jiho shakes his head.

_Ok, hyung._

Sometimes Yukwon does odd things, but only Jiho ever seems to think they're weird and he's kinda just learned to ignore them. He guesses this is just another oneof those things.

He's more worried about Jihoon now, who only pokes at his pancakes now. Though it seemed like he was digging in with vigor at first, he just stabs at them a little with his fork.

“Hey, what did my princess do to deserve being poked like that?” Jiho asks him and he sits up, blinking in surprise.

“Really, is something wrong?” Kyung asks from his other side, poking at Jihoon's side. He chuckles a little bit, but his face almost immediately falls.

“It's fine, hyungs. I'm cool,” he says, with a little shake of his head like he's scaring off whatever dark cloud is looming over his head.

Truth is, Jihoon is the opposite of okay at the moment.

For the past few days he's been feeling downright bizarre.

There's a bizarre, crawling feeling under his skin that won't go away. He has a strange ache to dart from the apartment screaming; since waking up, the feeling of his blood boiling under his skin has only worsened, though stuffing food in his mouth makes him feel slightly better, though his upset stomach might argue otherwise as the number of pancakes dwindle on his plate.

He knows the others can tell there's something not right with him, no matter what he might argue to the opposite. Everything feels too much; it's too loud, too bright, and everything smells too sharp.

“Everybody, back down,” Jiho says after huffing, pulling Jihoon from the table, dragging him back to the room. He forces him down onto the couch and crosses his legs in front of him.

“Jihoonie, you gotta tell us what's the matter,” he says matter-of-factly, doing his best to meet the other's eyes. Jihoon shakes a little bit and Jiho grabs his shoulder and grips it tightly.

The hold grounds the younger man and he takes a shuddering breath, but it still feels like he's choking.

“It looks like you're having an anxiety attack,” he mutters under his breath. “Tell me what you need.”

“Too much,” Jihoon manages to reply. Jiho waves his hand at Kyung to get the overhead light and the windowless room goes dark, only lit by light from the doorway and the blue and red lights of the electronics along the wall. Kyung looks like he's going to say something, but Jiho draws a threatening finger across his throat, indicating for him not to speak. Yukwon moves to beside Jihoon and wraps his arms around his chest, pulling the youngest’s head down to rest against his chest, patting his head gently as to not overstimulate him. He can feel some of the tension drain out of Jihoon's neck as Jiho watches hawk-like from the other side, resting a hand on Jihoon's knee. Kyung stands to the side unsure of what to do, until Jiho makes an angry face at him, so he wriggles behind Jihoon after Yukwon lifts his head to let him under.

“Is that better?” Yukwon asks quietly. “Try to follow my breathing.”

Jihoon does his best to listen to the body moving under his ears, behind the pounding of a muscle shooting blood through the eldest's veins to where contracting and expanding muscles draw oxygen into his thrumming lungs.

Somehow, the teen's able to listen past the sound of Yukwon’s heart to listen to his steady, deep breathing, and focusing on it helps dull the anxious feelings flooding his body. There’s still an odd feeling under his skin but the presence of his older friends helps him push it aside, reassuring him even as he cannot quell the shifting of his bones under his skin. He wonders if this is what all anxiety attacks feel like--he feels like there’s more to it than that.

“Jihoon,” Yukwon repeats. “Breathe slower; you’re thinking too hard.”

He can feel Kyung’s arms curled up behind his side and the warmth of Jiho pressed up against his calves; both their heartbeats mingle with Yukwon’s and his own.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, but Kyung just pats him reassuringly.

“Don’t sweat it,” he says, a genuine smile curling his lips and this time Jiho doesn’t shush him.

The smallest eases himself out from under Jihoon and crawls over the back of the couch so not to stir him too much. He comes back a little while later with a warm mug and pushes it into Jihoon’s hands.

“My mom always makes this for me when I’m feeling sick,” he says, and the other two shoot him grateful glances.

Jihoon works himself up into a sitting position and cradles the mug, the warmth alone soothing to him.

The three wait a moment until Jihoon seems calmer. Jiho stands from the couch then too.

He and Kyung exchange a glance--lifetime friend telepathy--and look back to Jihoon, who’s still leaning into Yukwon.

“We’re going to clean up in the kitchen, but you think you’ll be up to play games in a little bit?” Kyung asks. Any other time Jihoon might be a little thrown off by the softness of his voice, but for his oversensitive ears he’s grateful.

He nods and that’s enough to send the other two into the other room and he’s glad for the silence.

He sips at the tea--a pleasant chamomile blend, and he can feel Yukwon grinning beside him. The elder is very nearly petting Jihoon’s hair, but Jihoon just thinks it feels nice.

“Feeling better?” he asks, voice naturally smoother and softer than the brash pair Jihoon can hear trying not to clang around in the kitchen.

“Yeah... thanks, hyung,” Jihoon says, chancing a glance at Yukwon, who’s looking at him earnestly.

“You know... Jihoon.”

There’s something arresting about his tone, and Jihoon turns a little to face the other. Yukwon rests his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder.

“As your oldest hyung, I feel like I need to look out for you the most,” he chuckles. His eyes grow serious.

“If you need anything, anything at all, call me. Let me know and I’ll leave work if you need me to.”

“You sound like my mom,” Jihoon teases, but he can’t bring himself to smile brightly like Yukwon is.

Yukwon nudges him with his shoulder.

“Hey, we were having a moment,” he huffs, but his brow creases when he sees Jihoon’s face fall again.

He puts his hand around the youngest’s.

“In all seriousness, I will drop anything to help you,” he promises. “If something like this happens again or anything else.”

He sounds so genuine the churning in Jihoon’s gut settles into something more like gratitude rather than just anxiousness and he can’t help his eyes watering.

“Thank you, hyung,” he replies, finding his smile is a little less forced.

“That’s the Jihoonie we know,” Yukwon says cheerfully.

Jiho and Kyung come back in soon after that and power up the TV, managing to coerce the others into a few rounds of Naruto. The three are relieved when Jihoon’s bellowing laugh echoes through the flat again, even if it’s a little softer. None of them comment either when Jihoon falls asleep on Jiho again.

“Ack, this kid,” he says to himself, shaking his head, but he’s glad Jihoon managed to relax enough to sleep.

Maybe while the other two were silently bickering over Streetfighter, he might’ve started petting Jihoon’s hair like he had seen Yukwon doing earlier.

As the little bit of natural light fades from the apartment signaling the late afternoon, Jiho shakes Jihoon awake, and if he was embarrassed by the younger cuddling up against him, he elects not mentioning it.

He does hug Jihoon after he shuttles him home, squeezing him tightly.

“Take it easy, Jihoonie,” he says as he walks him to his front door, giving his mother a curt bow.

When she goes to close the door, she finds a foot in the door.

“Wait, Mrs. Pyo.”

Jiho thinks Jihoon must be all the way inside by now. Jihoon’s mother raises her eyebrows.

“Just... keep an eye on Jihoonie? He’s not feeling well,” Jiho fumbles, but thankfully, she just seems touched by his concern.

“Thank you, Jiho-ah,” she smiles, but her brow is still creased with concern of her own. “Did something happen while he was with you?”

“Nothing. Well, just watch out for him, okay?” Jiho repeats.

He doesn’t feel like it’s enough but Jihoon’s mother just nods and bids him a good afternoon, shutting the door when he turns his back.


	3. Chapter 3

The next week passes without incident. Well, for everyone but Jiho.

 

Part of his job with the construction company involves making deliveries and picking up supplies in the van. Deliveries take him all over town, and today in particular he’s right in the middle of downtown.

The buildings are fancy enough to set him on edge; they make him uncomfortable and out of place in his work clothes, just knowing the suits that walk in and out of these buildings could buy him and 50 others like him (It’s a shock he ever got used to Jihoon’s money).

He can, at least, admire the architecture of the building he picks up blueprints from. He’s picked up a few things about beauty in lines and open spaces enough to know the place is artfully built, and miles above his pay grade. He’s staring up, distracted by the vaulted ceilings when he crashes into someone.

Even before he sees the black and red plaid suit he’s apologizing profusely. He knows how fast these business types are with slapping lawsuits, and it’s hardly something he can afford.

To his surprise, the man bounces back on his feet and looks at him curiously. He notes the guy is nearly plastic surgery handsome before he dips into Jiho’s space and sniffs him.

“You smell very interesting.”

Maybe Jiho should be the one slapping a lawsuit.

He recoils, but the guy doesn’t seem to think much of it, and there’s a hand taking Jiho’s and a card pressed into it.

The man beams, leaving Jiho no time to recover as he blabbers something about connections, holding the card tight to Jiho’s hand.

“Do I know you?” Jiho finally manages to ask, struck by his odd familiarity.

“You don’t know me yet, but you will… Interesting first impression,” he chuckles, but his gaze is serious. Jiho realizes he means for Jiho to take the card. If it means the weird guy will stop staring at him like that, Jiho will gladly take the card, and he does, folding his fingers around it.

The man taps the card.

“You’re going to have nowhere else to turn soon. You’re going to need it then.”

Jiho can’t contain his look of incredulity and the man only smiles. Jiho glances back at the silver card, blank but for the shimmer of it.

“Your friends are going to need you, Jiho,” the man says.

Jiho’s head snaps up when he realizes something.

“How do you know my name?”

The words die in his mouth as he speaks; the man is gone and chills run down Jiho’s spine.

He thinks he should throw the card away but something draws his eye to it again. This time there’s the faint glimmer of a name: Ahn Jaehyo.

The guy must be a some kind of loan shark or a gangster, Jiho thinks, though he doesn’t know how the guy would know his name. Against his better judgment, he finds himself slipping the card into his pocket, but not before giving it a cautionary sniff. It smells of fresh strawberries, fresh from a roadside stand.

He wonders when gangsters started passing out cards.

 

It’s not the most unusual thing he sees that week.

 

The next day he stops to get gas, popping in the station to grab himself a bag of chips. He steps down from the curb and walks toward the van, bag already popped open and hand full of crunchy kettle chips when he freezes. Jiho doesn’t have much of a sense of self preservation, but the ounce he has glues his feet to the spot as his eyes are drawn to a pair of black Tahoes filling up behind his battered car. Their windows are blacked out, government quality.

Someone laughs behind him and he steps to the side in time to avoid a rowdy group exiting the station.

His eyes follow them to the Tahoes and he shivers. There’s something dangerous about their air and it’s not just because their coats are much heavier than needed for the weather. Two of the five sound Australian, conversing in heavily accented Korean and looking like stereotypical outback types.

He wouldn’t be surprised if they were stowing away guns under those coats.

Jiho doesn’t move until they pull away, hurrying into his van and locking the door behind him.

He thinks he heard the bark of dogs in the back from behind glass and metal as they drove off.

Rough types aren’t unfamiliar to the area, but none with such expensive foreign cars and clothing. Jiho hopes they don’t hang around.

 

It leaves him with an eerie sense of foreboding.

 

Done for the day, he drops off the procured blueprints and exchanges them for one Park Kyung. Jiho expects Kyung’s usual chatter to stir him from this weird funk, but his best friend is stoic for once.

“Jihoon isn’t answering his phone,” he says once Jiho starts the engine back up, the machine giving a familiar splutter and roar. “I haven’t heard from him since yesterday.”

He sounds very concerned, brow creasing so hard Jiho almost wants to poke his face and tell him he’ll get wrinkles. But instead of telling him not to worry (like he should, reasonably; there could be any matter of things that keep Jihoon from answering his phone), Jiho is silent.

“I haven’t heard from him either,” he says after a moment, already finding himself turning toward the school. “You don’t think--” Kyung starts, but Jiho doesn’t know what he means.

“He was acting so weird after game night, I’m just going to check to see that he’s at school,” Jiho explains, parking in front of the office, letting Kyung trail behind him.

“You know you two aren’t supposed to be on campus,” the secretary says, but she gives them a quiet smile anyway. “What do you need, boys?”

“Do you know if Jihoon came into school today?” Kyung asks, pushing past Jiho.

“We haven’t heard from him and he’s not been in the best shape,” Jiho says from over his shoulder.

The secretary frowns.

“Odd that you ask… He walked out of school today. Didn’t even bother to check out.”

Kyung and Jiho exchange a look.

“Just walked out, didn’t even let anyone know?” Kyung repeats, leaning over the counter.

“Yes, the nurse saw him though. Said he looked awfully pale, poor boy. Figured he might’ve been skipping with the pair of you, but he’s always been such a good boy.”

The two glance at each other and Jiho taps the reception counter.

“Thanks for your help,” he says briskly, and turns to walk out, Kyung following right behind.

“What should we do? Obviously there’s something wrong,” Kyung says, bunching up the hem of his shirt in his hands.

“We don’t know that for sure. Let’s not overreact,” Jiho says, but he’s already climbing back into the van.

Kyung rolls his eyes.

“You say as you prepare to drive all the way to his house, Jiho,” he scoffs, but he slides in beside him.

“Of course. Since when does our perfect honor student Jihoon skip school?”

 

Jiho feels weird driving in Jihoon’s neighborhood without him. The houses are so expensive, with their perfectly manicured hedges and maintained exteriors, he couldn’t stick out more in his ratty old van. Kyung is on edge too; they both breathe a sigh of relief when they pull back into the driveway.

Both of them are surprised, however, to see Yukwon’s motor bike already parked by the back door.

“Did Yukwon tell you he was here?” Jiho asks. Kyung shakes his head.

“I dunno, bro,” he mutters, already popping out of the car and trotting up to the door.

The two rap on the door, Jiho with increasing agitation.

“It’s us, let us in, guys,” he nearly shouts through the door, about to wriggle the door handle when it swings open, revealing a wide-eyed Yukwon.

His hair is matted to his head with sweat, and his pupils are huge with what can only be fear, looking like he just ran a marathon. He points at the van, jaw set.

  
“You can’t be here. You have to go.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for body horror in this chapter; tags will be updated to reflect it

“Don’t forget the take home quiz tomorrow; it’s for a grade,” Yukwon says, shuffling his papers as the students in his drill trod out of the small classroom. It’s an odd time for a drill, right in the middle of the day, but Yukwon doesn’t mind, as all his lectures follow it so he can spend the morning preparing for it. As he tucks the previous day’s quizzes into his bag, his phone buzzes quietly.

He wonders why Jihoon’s calling him during the middle of his classes but he picks it up anyway, tucking the phone against his shoulder.

“Hey, Jihoon--you skipping class already?” he asks teasingly.

The smile drops from his face at the voice on the other end.

His eyes widen, and he cradles the phone instead, brow furrowed.

“Just stay right there. I’m leaving now. Don’t--don’t worry, Jihoonie.”

He shoots off a text to the rest of the TAs.

 

[sent: 1:03 PM] Family emergency. Won’t be able to make it to the rest of my classes today.

 

When Yukwon pulls up to the high school, Jihoon’s already waiting outside, bag slung over his shoulder. Yukwon hardly has time to kill the engines before Jihoon’s stumbling over the curb. Even more alarmed, Yukwon stares at him.

“What’s wrong, Jihoonie?”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything; he just throws his arms around him and makes a choked noise, burying his face in Yukwon’s hair. He’s warm, unnaturally warm even in this heat; Yukwon wiggles from his grip and tugs his spare helmet over his skull, snapping it shut under his jaw.

“I’ll take you home,” he decides, and starts his engine back up. Jihoon doesn’t hesitate to sink into the seat behind him, arms nearly crushing around him.

Down the freeway, even with the breeze rushing around them, Jihoon’s arms are like fiery brands where they hold him tight. His scent is ripe with a note that’s always been there but Yukwon only now recognizes as pine--a sharp, woody smell that nearly burns Yukwon’s nose with its artificial, sickly edge.

He smells like kin, but sick, twisted and it makes his stomach flop.

Even if that had been there all along, there’s something very, very wrong.

They might be in a rush, but Yukwon breaks in front of Jihoon’s house carefully, shifting himself under the younger so that he can support his weight, a smart move as Jihoon can hardly lift himself from the bike, let alone walk to the door.

By now the boy’s so warm that the key in his jeans nearly burns Yukwon when he digs in Jihoon’s pocket for it. Jihoon doesn’t even open his eyes at it, groaning low in his throat. Yukwon fumbles to get the door open while carrying him, dragging him over the threshold and following Jihoon’s scent to where it’s the heaviest in the house rather than rely on the dim memory of the one time he’d actually come inside years ago.

Yukwon can feel the shiver-like spasms pulsing through Jihoon’s skin and he knows what’s happening to him--his mother told him of those who tried to fight their first shift, those who were born alone and afraid--they had each other, their own kin, but Jihoon. Jihoon was alone.

That didn’t mean Yukwon wasn’t going to try anyway.

Under the sickly scent the pine scent is powerful--it’s not like anything Yukwon has ever scented but his father’s voice tells him _wolf_. _Canis lupis._

He hauls Jihoon onto the bed and he still reaches for Yukwon; he might not be able to stand for the shifting of his bones but his grip is still tight--crushing, more powerful than the lithe strength of a cat.

“Let’s get you comfortable, okay, Jihoon?” Yukwon says, voice whisper soft.

He manages to free him of his shirt and jeans, covering him with the sheet instead, stuffing all the pillows he can find under Jihoon’s head as he tosses and turns, body fighting the inevitable.

(Both their phones lie discarded on the floor, dead and forgotten.)

He raids the kitchen for ice packs and ice, the bathroom for towels; the packs don’t want to stay on Jihoon’s twitching body but he tries anyway, hoping he doesn’t imagine Jihoon’s skin feeling a touch cooler.

By the time Jihoon’s nearly seizing in the bed, Yukwon’s unconsciously purring deep in his gut, the rumbling noise filling the room louder than Jihoon’s whimpers. Yukwon can see his eyes already flashing, rolling around in his skull--he never imagined a shift could be so painful, but then again, nothing was normal about the changes racing through Jihoon’s body.

Yukwon curses again that their kid is a wolf of all creatures, strong and stubborn; his own shifted form is built for agility and grace. Even with his increase in size he knows he cannot control Jihoon if he panics in his new form.

As Jihoon’s moans and low growling grow louder, so does the frantic knocking now apparent at the front door. Yukwon can hear Jiho’s bullheaded yelling now too, his tone piercing through the wood.  _Of course they show up_ now, Yukwon thinks.

The cat shifter prays to whatever petty gods are watching and runs his hand across the top of Jihoon’s head. He presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” he says, worming his way out of Jihoon’s iron grip before placing a fresh pack on the crown of his head.

He hurries to the door, throwing it open with a little more strength than he intended. Yukwon wonders if he’s partially shifted already, from the looks on their faces, but he feels a bead of sweat running down his cheek and knows he probably just looks as messy as he feels.

“You can’t be here. You have to go,” he says, but both have their jaws set in twin determined expressions.

“What’s going on, Yukwon?” Kyung asks, staring over Yukwon’s shoulder into the dimly lit house. Yukwon steps onto the threshold, feeling his teeth start to move in his mouth.

“You have to leave,” he insists, running his hand through his damp hair. Kyung steps back on some instinct Jiho doesn’t have. He can… feel something radiating from the house, something dangerous also coming from Yukwon.

“Seriously, Kwonnie, let us in,” Jiho persists, pushing at the shorter man’s shoulder. He stumbles back when Yukwon shoves him away, eyes gleaming unnaturally.

“Don't be a dumbass, Jiho," Yukwon hisses, moving to shut the door. “Leave, and let me take care of Jihoon.”

Behind him, Jihoon’s screams are loud enough even the humans can hear him and Jiho jams his foot in the doorway, fingers tight around the door’s edge.

“Jiho--” Kyung starts, grabbing the younger, but Jiho only shrugs him off.

“Something’s _wrong_ , Yukwon. You have to let us help him,” Jiho says, voice lowering and echoing with a pleading note. Yukwon winces, grimacing further at another pained yell from Jihoon’s room. He doesn't have time for this; he can't spare a moment to argue with them, although... They’ve got a right to be concerned--and he doesn’t think he can stop them _and_ Jihoon. So he opens the door the rest of the way.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Jiho rushes past him, bolting straight into Jihoon’s room with Kyung close behind; Yukwon makes sure the front door is locked tight.

When he comes back into the room, Jiho’s pacing in front of the bed, staring at his hand.

“I--I touched him and it burned. He’s so hot--Yukwon, he’s dying… we-we have to get him to a hospital,” he begs the elder. Yukwon guides him out of the way and places a fresh pack on Jihoon’s head, tossing the old one onto the bedside table.

“He’s not dying.”

Kyung stands at the foot of the bed, staring at Jihoon, his eyes wet.

“He sounds like it.”

Jihoon seizes then, skin prickling visibly as he twitches on the bed, limbs crackling audibly.

Yukwon pins him down with both arms as Jiho and Kyung panic, Jiho reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“No! Don’t call 119!” Yukwon bellows. The scowl disappears from his face when Jiho raises the phone in surrender, slipping it back into his pocket. He turns to purr at Jihoon instead as he stills, petting his hair.

“What the hell is going on?” Jiho says, as calmly as he can manage. He cuts himself off as Yukwon raises his finger to his lips.

Yukwon seems to struggle inwardly, shaking his head before he looks back at them both, his brow furrowed.

“You both love Jihoon, right? Would you protect him no matter what?” he asks in return, voice hesitant.

“Of course,” Kyung answers for them both. Jiho looks stricken before he nods, hovering beside Yukwon.

“Listen up then--everything I’m about to tell you is completely true, no matter how crazy you think I am.”

Neither of them have ever heard him sound so serious.

“Jihoon _is_ very sick right now, but he doesn’t need a doctor,” Yukwon says, motioning for them both to sit.

Neither do. He continues.

“You both know he’s been weird the last few days--I didn’t recognize it because it’s not natural even for our kind, but he’s rare.”

 _Our kind?_ But Jiho doesn’t interrupt.

As if hearing his unspoken question Yukwon faces Jiho.

“Our kind, as in that he's not human.”

Both Jiho and Kyung stiffen, but they don’t flee or protest; Yukwon takes it as a sign to continue.

“Usually we inherit our abilities from our parents and taught to control them from birth, but Jihoon here is an abnormality even among abnormalities. He thinks he’s entirely human, and his mind is trying to suppress the change.”

Oddly, Jiho suddenly thinks of the card in his pocket, and the strange prophecy its bestower gave him. He resolves to toss it later.

Jihoon seems to finally notice Kyung and Jiho’s presence.

“Guys,” he groans, reaching for them. The pair are at his side immediately, taking either of his hands though his touch is near unbearable.

“Did you come looking for me?” he asks, and Jiho scoffs.

“Of course we did, you idiot,” Jiho says fondly, squeezing his hand tighter.

Yukwon suddenly reappears (when did he vanish?) with more ice and cold towels, pulling the sheet down to lay them over Jihoon’s body.

There are tear trails down Kyung’s cheeks now, Jiho’s face bright red from holding back his own. Yukwon is pale, pale, utterly drained of color as he continues to make that bizarre humming noise. Jiho wonders how he’s making it, but then again, it’s hardly the weirdest detail in this scenario.

Jihoon groans again before forcing himself to smile, his grip on his friends' hands weakening even as he squeezes back.

“Thanks,” he whispers. His bones crack again, but this time, louder, loud enough that both Kyung and Jiho jump, squeezing his hands tighter.

“Leave--get out,” Yukwon mutters, waving at them before crawling on the bed with Jihoon. At this point neither have the ability to argue with him.

As they back away they see something swarming on Jihoon’s skin, his face nearly melting as it changes shape, moving with the teeth suddenly flooding his mouth. Yukwon takes his hands, not pinning him down but in place if he needs to, and he glares at the pair frozen in the room.

“ _Get out!_ ” Yukwon roars this time, and the pair nearly stumble backwards over each other when he snarls, mouth full of razor sharp teeth that weren’t there milliseconds before, fur crawling up his neck and body bulging bigger.

They both catch their breath behind the closed door, backs resting against the wood as they wait.

Jiho’s hand tucks into his pocket and he pulls out the card. Even in the dark hallway it glimmers.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments if you liked or have any questions!! I've got so much written for this AU it's sometimes hard to keep stuff straight in my head and even in my documents, so if something's unclear it's probably because I forgot a detail or two :O This is completely unbeta'd too, other than bouncing ideas off a friend or two. This is also the first time I've written k-pop fic as well.  
> I hope you enjoyed and rest assured: there's plenty more where this came from!  
> If you'd like to talk to me about this fic or any of my others/prompt me to update, you can find me at agaydragon on tumblr.


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